


try to squeeze in a full nelson

by thefudge



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Daddy Issues, F/M, Inappropriate Behavior, alien!reginald hargreeves, eldritch horror, mild M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26167600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefudge/pseuds/thefudge
Summary: Allison wants Reginald to give her a goodnight kiss.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves/Reginald Hargreeves, reginald hargreeves/allison hargreeves
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	try to squeeze in a full nelson

**Author's Note:**

> this is just glorified trash.

There is something sly and old in her voice when she speaks the words, like wrapping herself in a fur coat full of secrets.

She leans closer to her father.

“I heard a rumor that you –”

Reginald clamps his hand over her mouth swiftly.

The rest of the compulsion withers against his cold palm. Her lips move wetly with no sound.

Reginald looks down at her with an owlish expression, one corner of his mouth tilted up.

“Now, now. We mustn’t be greedy.”

His grip on her mouth is too tight, meant to bruise a little. She chafes against the restraints. She wishes she had the courage to bite his hand, but if anyone is wicked here, it’s him.

“Besides…” he trails off, “I don’t think you’d like me to do what you want me to do.” 

Allison’s eyes widen.

There’s a lace-like sliver of saliva running down his knuckles.

How does he know? How does daddy always know? His perception rivals her own. He knows her better than she knows herself. 

Slowly, he lowers his hand, thumb dragging down the corner of her lip, exposing the red inside of her mouth for a moment. “Yes, I really don’t think you could bear it,” he says.

Allison shivers.

“I just – wanted you to kiss me goodnight, for once.”

Reginald smiles coolly. “Precisely. Don’t you know that a kiss goodnight is always rather dangerous?”

“How so, Sir?” she inquires in that politely curious tone he’s always appreciated in his Number Three.

“One never knows exactly who it is they are kissing in the night. Things are always muddled after dark. Mouths are not mouths.”

His voice is stern, but pleasant, the cadence of a familiar lecture. Yet what he’s telling her does not seem to make sense. It sounds completely alien.

_Mouths are not mouths._

She stares at her father’s very ordinary looking mouth, the mustache perfectly groomed.

“Is your mouth not a mouth, Sir?”

Reginald leans back in his chair. “Often times no.”

Allison can’t help sidling closer, even though she knows he will not like it. The gilded armrest rubs against her bare knee.

“What is it, then?”

“It is a creature that feeds on disobedient children. Though it does not always discriminate. It has also eaten grown-ups from time to time.”

Once more, his cadence lulls her into a false sense of security. This _ought_ to make sense, but little about him ever does. She wants to burst into terrified laughter.

“I’m a grown-up too,” she says, clinging to something she understands. “I’ll be sixteen next month.”

Reginald examines her indifferently, though his eyes gleam like beads on a string. “And? What of it?”

“Well I…I guess I want to be treated like it.”

She yearns to sit on his lap and put her arms around his neck. It’s odd. She did not have this inclination when she was younger. But now it’s all she ever thinks about when she sees him sitting in his study.

“You want a kiss goodnight because you are almost sixteen? That does not _cohere_.”

“I’ve earned it,” she insists stubbornly. “I’ve been good. I’ve waited.” _For so long,_ she thinks.

“And you believe patience should be rewarded?” he inquires carefully.

Allison smiles. She’s coy and sly and on the cusp of another rumor.

She opens her mouth.

Reginald covers her lips again, caging her mouth, pulling her closer, until she’s almost straddling him, yet her legs keep sliding. He’s such a perfect monolith.

“As I’ve told you many times, Number Three,” he speaks into her ear, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Allison rubs her thigh against his trouser leg and anchors him down with her hands around his neck, looking into his eyes with a sort of impish, devil-may-care compulsion. As if she’s rumored herself.

Reginald slips one finger between her lips, right against her teeth. He seems to glow with the punishment he will deliver.

“All right, my dear. Don’t say I did not warn you.”

Her screams do not go further than the study’s door. They melt like ice cream on the carpeted floor. They turn into little kittens, mewling for milk. They trickle down her chin and make her knees weak. They speak of innate horror and the desire to mount a sword, to cut herself on the fingers that still grip her tight.

Most of all, her screams don’t seem to make any sound at all, as her father kisses her goodnight.


End file.
